


Dead Man's Party

by deux_lunes



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 15:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20659343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deux_lunes/pseuds/deux_lunes
Summary: Paul goes to a birthday party for his dear, departed friend.Originally posted on Livejournal, written for Paul's wedding to Nancy and John's birthday.





	Dead Man's Party

My mother’s hands. Strong, soft and firm, I would know them anywhere, even after so many years. They rested on my shoulders, and I could feel her wedding ring lightly pressing against me. She never took it off, even after she died.

“Wake up, Paulie,” she whispered. “We’re going to be late for the party.” 

“The party?” I whispered back. Nancy still slumbered quietly beside me, unaware of the new presence in our bedroom.

“The birthday party, sweetheart. Come along.” She took my hand, pulled me from bed and through the door. We padded quietly along the hallways, my mother leading me though she had never lived to see any of my houses. 

“But Mum,” I protested, “I’m not dressed for a party.” I just wore my shorts and a t-shirt, and I suddenly felt young, much too young for my age.

“It’s okay, dear, we’re not going far.” We stepped through the door and into the garden. Though it was still the dark hours of the morning, the garden was lit with thousands of little paper lanterns, illuminating the flower blossoms and the faces of all the party guests. 

“Mum, whose party is this?” I knew the answer, I knew I knew, I just couldn’t…

She smiled gently at me, that single action stripping years away from my age. “You go enjoy yourself, Paul. The birthday boy should be here soon.” I glanced at the other guests, then back to my mother, but she had already started walking away, nodding kindly to everyone she passed. I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt; I was nervous. I didn’t get nervous at parties anymore, not the way I used to. A lot of these faces were only half of a memory to me anymore and I couldn’t find the words to say to them. So I went to the snack table, I poured myself a drink.

“A little early to be drinking, isn’t it, Paul? You’ve just arrived.”

I nearly spat my rum and coke out at the sound of that voice. “Stuart Sutcliffe, what the hell are you doing here?” 

Stu reached past me to pour a drink for himself. “I was invited, why do you think?”

I tried to ignore the wave of bitter emotions that rolled over me at the sight of his face. Artsy little cunt, couldn’t play a note, everyone liking him better… The sickening guilt over my jealousy of a dead man. “I’m sorry, Stu.”

“Don’t stress it, McCartney.” He looked up at me; he was still so much shorter.

“No, I mean. Sorry. About everything. I was a right prick to you.”

He laughed a little at that. “I’d be a liar if I didn’t agree with you. But…” He shrugged. “I understand why you were. If I was in love with somebody who was that close with somebody else, I’d be a jealous bastard too.” He winked at me, and I know that I turned pink.

“You knew about…?”

“Yeah. It would have been hard not to.” He paused, looked away. “I could have backed off. It was just kind of fun to take the piss out of you like that… and I loved him too, you know.”

“I know. We all did.” 

“My ears are burning, Macca,” a soft, teasing voice said into my ear and I almost fell over with shock. 

“Johnny,” I said, repeating it over and over. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…” My Johnny, my beautiful friend, standing right in front of me, smile spread over his face like a sunbeam. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself close to him, willing my tears away. “Happy birthday, Johnny.”

He wrapped his arms around me, not saying a word, just hugging me close and letting us both remember the feel of each other’s bodies touching. 

“I’ve missed you.” I breathed into his neck, inhaling his old scent. 

He tightened his grip on me. “I’ve missed you too, Macca. It’s been too long.” He kissed my hair and I didn’t flush in embarrassment, only in excitement. He felt the same as I remembered him, firm but soft and encompassing and just perfect. I fingered the hair that just brushed the nape of his neck, feeling it splay under my hands and he laughed. I tightened my embrace. I needed to keep that laugh with me forever.

“Come on, Paul,” he said, pulling back from my arms to my disappointment. “We need to say hi to everybody.”

“No, we don’t. We don’t have to do anything of that sort, we can stay right here.” I just got John back; I didn’t want him to leave again. 

John took my hand and gave it a quick kiss. “I’m not leaving your side, love. Come on, we’re just going to say hello. They’re your friends too, you know. I’m not the only you don’t get to see anymore.”

I let him lead me across the garden, giving warm greetings to all the friends and family who have passed from my life. They all gave us hugs, wished John a happy birthday and never once commented on our held hands and linked fingers. Not even my father, who just smiled at us and said how good it was to see us again.

Then I saw them, next to the hydrangea bushes. I didn’t want to go to them, not holding John’s hand, not so obviously in love… but John led me right to them, a smile on his face and my hand still in his.

“Hello, John, love,” Linda said, smiling back at him and giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. “And Paul.” She kissed me too, her eyes twinkling.

George stepped forward to trap the both of us in a giant hug. “It’s been a while, mates,” he laughed and I felt like crying, the three of us together again. It had been a while. 

Brian was the last to step forward, about to shake John’s hand but John hugged him instead. “Thanks for coming to my party, Eppy,” he said, embracing him tightly.

“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, John,” he replied. “Happy birthday. And it’s good to see you again, Paul.” John let him go, and I replaced him, giving Brian a long overdue hug. 

John took my hand again, and my stomach leaped into my throat. George and Brian had loved John so much, and Linda had been my life for so long… They all knew about John and me, but to see it, to really see it. Shouldn’t I be embracing Linda, shouldn’t I be kissing her and being with her when I had the chance to? But they all just smiled, they all knew.

John squeezed my hand. “Let’s go, Macca.”

“Go where? It’s your party, John.”

He snorted. “Yeah, it’s my party and I’ll do what I want. Now come on!”

“But—”

“Paul, sweetheart, just go.” My dear wife smiled at me, along with George and Brian who grinned and shook their heads. “It’s John’s birthday, after all.”

We sequestered ourselves in a little clearing inside the giant rose bushes, the lights from the lanterns glowing around outside like giant fireflies. We used to come here; we would smoke a joint, lie on our backs to look at the roses and we would kiss, so softly, so gently… And I felt those soft lips, those gentle lips on mine and I kissed back, ignoring the party going on just a few feet away. He laid me down, carefully positioning himself beside me so we could just kiss like we did as teenagers. How old was I; how old was John? I couldn’t remember anymore, so I kept kissing John, inching closer to him so I would be back in his arms.

“I never once forgot how good you felt,” he whispered against me. “The way you kissed, the way you fucked, the way you squirmed and cuddled… The way you vibrated when you moaned, every last bit of you.”

“John…” I kissed him hard. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

“I do, Paul, I’ve missed you just as much.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “I didn’t think it was possible to miss someone so much.” 

“Don’t leave,” I whispered against his mouth. “I miss you, don’t leave me again.” 

“Macca… I don’t want to leave.” His eyes are dark and yearning, begging me to try and understand. “I can only be here for a little while. None of us can stay that long anywhere.”

“But I need you, John.” My voice cracked and I sat up, hugging my knees for comfort. “Take me with you.”

“You know I can’t…” He sat up beside me, wrapped his arm around me. “You need to stay here.”

“But why?! Everyone I love is in this garden! You’re here, Johnny!” Tears rolled down my face but that didn’t deter me. “I just want to be with you.”

“Everyone you love, Paul? I don’t see your children here. I don’t see your fiancée here. I don’t see a lot of people here.” He stroked my cheek. “You have your time just like everyone does, love.”

My lower lip wobbled. “You miss me though, right?”

“I miss you more than anything, Paul McCartney.” He placed another gentle kiss on my lips. “I miss you more than Corn Flakes and rock ‘n’ roll and ciggies and sex and anything that this Earth has to offer.”

I turned my face away; I couldn’t stand knowing that I had such little time left with my friend. 

John touched my cheek again and urged me to look back. “Don’t turn away,” he whispered. “It’s only me. Only me.”

I threw my arms around him once again, kissing him like I could only live if I did so. “You have to come back,” I babbled, pressing kisses against his lips over and over. “You need to be here more.”

“Love, love, love,” he said quietly, “you know that this is a big day, right?”

“Mmhmm, it’s your birthday.”

“No, Macca, it’s your wedding day.”

I blinked and the lanterns were glowing brighter, much like the morning sun. “No, John, please…”

“I’ll always be here, Paul.” He kissed me once more. “I’m never far away.”

The lights grew brighter and I kissed John again, refusing to wake up, not letting consciousness take me without taking John with me, and the roses surrounded us, closing in our kiss—

“Wake up, Paul. We’re going to be late for the ceremony.”

I blinked as I looked up at Nancy, her hand resting on my shoulder while she held a cup of steaming coffee in her hand. She smiled at me, unaware of the dream she had taken me from. “Sleep well?”

“Pretty well.” I sat up and she handed me the coffee, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Did you dream about John?”

“…Was I talking in my sleep?”

She grinned. “You were just saying ‘happy birthday’ a lot. John must have visited you for a birthday present, huh?”

“I don’t think I got him one,” I said, taking a sip of coffee.

“It was probably nice just to be with you.” Nancy stood up and walked to the closet, beginning to dress. “You better hurry up, you can’t go to the ceremony in your boxers.”

I got out of bed, but didn’t go to the closet. Instead, I went to the window and looked out on the garden, where only moments ago I lay in a rose bush kissing my best friend. “Happy birthday, Johnny,” I whispered, still looking at the garden, somewhat hoping to see at least one paper lantern still bobbing in the breeze.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Oingo Boingo's "Dead Man's Party"


End file.
